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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102571">Of Mechas and Mechanisms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingspacemate/pseuds/thewritingspacemate'>thewritingspacemate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Artificial Intelligence, Backstory, But they get better, Character Death, Mecha, Original side characters, PLEASE tell me if I am missing anything, Tags Are Hard, and I will edit the tags for you, heckity heck i'm new here, i needed some made up people to use, it's a backstory fic, original villains i never even named, time to try to tag stuff and die</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 04:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingspacemate/pseuds/thewritingspacemate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Byron von Raum is a member of the rebellion, fighting against both sides of the war that has torn his world apart. Then he finds a bunch of mechas, fixes one, joins a group of pirates, loses an arm, gets a new one, and dies. Definitely not in that order though. And "dies" isn't in there nearly enough times. But it's all fine, right?</p><p>This is my Marius backstory fic! Which is essentially me going "hey, Marius was like, a mecha pilot or something, what if he had a cool mecha arm? What's that term you see a lot... techno organic??" and then writing over 7k words. And creating an AI for him to befriend because he deserves it. And side characters, so that they can die. And unnamed villains so that they can also die.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marius von Raum &amp; The Mechanisms Ensemble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Mechas and Mechanisms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Is this edited? A little bit. Will I do more in the future? Debatable. Possibly not. Hotel? Trivago.<br/>Comments are my lifeblood, even if you're just there to scream at me about how much you love Marius. Especially if you're there to do that, actually. I feel the same way. Kudos also help me get motivation to procrastinate on schoolwork by writing more. And if you share the fic with your friends I think I would just give you my soul.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was silence. Ashes fell upon the ground, and shouts were heard all around, but to Byron, there was nothing but silence. Everything around him was a bit fuzzy, blurred around the edges, his mind unable to bring what he was seeing into a sharper focus. Perhaps it was shielding him, for if he saw just how much blood had stained the ground below him and his shirt, his heart would only feel all the more weighed down.</p><p>Elizabeth Lascelles rests in his arms, blood seeping from the wound to her stomach, soaking Byron in red. His tears sting as they run down his cheeks, mingling with the blood and dirt already there. In what seems like the distance, another explosion rings out, the ground shaking as a plume of flames erupts. The area where he kneels is one that's been damned for eradication, Byron knows that fact well, he was the one who suggested that they attack the base by the river at first duskfall. And then Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, his only friend in this tumultuous world, was the one who suggested they do the right thing. To save those who would be killed for a senseless purpose. And Byron had agreed with no second thought.</p><p>"-get out of there! Byron!" Something closes around his arm, dragging him with brute force to his feet, the world snapping into focus as he's forced to move. He's only vaguely aware of his own screaming until the next bombshell hits, just feet from where he had sat. He cares not for who's dragging him, just screams at them, demanding that they let him go, that Elizabeth is dead and it's his fault, he needs to be there with her, just leave him to die with her, but with the person's strong grip leaving him unable to use his remaining good arm, leaving him at their mercy as they force him away, back to where the old outpost is, where the various rebels and anti-war allies have situated themselves.</p><p>Byron then finds himself spending the next few days with his good arm cuffed to the outpost scaffolding, being looked down on by the one who had gotten him out. It's fair, he knows that, Ridley had made their plans and he had gone to warn those they were going to kill. He let war conspirators get away with their lives. But it was Ridley who fired before the given time, giving those who trusted him lies and promising plans that would never now come to fruition. And now he had paid with his arm, crushed and twisted and torn past the point of even being worth trying to be saved, made to resemble his very soul, corrupted by too many morally dubious deeds for this last act to have any hope of salvaging it. Elizabeth, though, she had paid with her life.</p><p>There isn't much luck for a rebel with only one arm. Ridley doesn't send him out on jobs. He works communications, works on strategies, and he's thankful to be out of the field, out of the line of danger. But there's more coming everyday, taking up places he could have filed. People throwing away their lives when maybe, maybe, had he been there, they would not have. So he pushes himself to do all that he can. He ensures the minimal amount of casualties. He steals the plans Ridley makes that would only cause more deaths, carefully reworking them so that the orders given on the battlefield won't be as self sacrificial. He reads up on humanity, on how the world used to be, learns all that he can, and never once misses a step.</p><p> </p><p>He still dreams of Elizabeth, of the blond streaks in her hair and white dress stained with blood, turning the dead grass they rest upon into a sea of gore. Even a few years later, as he shuts his eyes against sudden neon lights and gleaming metal of spectacular colors, the image of her smile still plays behind his eyelids. As he spends sleepless nights attempting to figure out the mechanics of the machines he's stumbled upon, her laughter helps keep him awake. She was a friend taken from him too early on in life. And with his new work, he can make everyone responsible for her death pay.</p><p>Instruction manuals are piled in the corner of the formerly sealed off cave. Byron reads them all with care, matching the pieces they talk about to the "mechas", as the machines are described as, they belong to. Only one has manuals for every part of it, so he sets to work prying open every panel he can get his hands on. It's nothing like the guns and knives they use, no, it's all metal and wires and "circuit boards"- thankfully, Byron can take enough pieces from the others to make up for everything that has been lost or corroded by the elements. Having only one hand hinders his process, as he's forced to come up with solutions to any process that requires two hands, one the most notable of which is finding an old soldering iron and having to hold it with his feet.</p><p>When he turns it on for the first time, his breath catches in his throat as buttons start lighting up, the metal underneath him almost glowing as the walkway lights up as well, surrounding the small room inside the mecha with a green tinged glow. <b> <em>Hello,</em> </b> comes a robotic voice, <b> <em>pilot Fe- you're not Felix.</em> </b></p><p>"Erm, no, I'm not. But I did repair you?"</p><p><b> <em>You must be a doctor then! I was not aware I was having any complications. What is your name, doctor?</em> </b> The voice echoes in the small chamber, Byron taken aback by how human it sounds. It's somewhere between perfectly polished, a voice too neat to be coming from any living being, but with intonation enough to think that it's from a being with complicated emotions instead of processors and memory chips.</p><p>"I'm... also not a doctor. Or that Felix person." He squints at the rolled up papers in his hand, the guide to turning on the mecha once in the pilot's seat. "Um... in case you aren't being recognized, if the mecha is indeed your own... run a full diagnostics check? Is that the right thing to do?"</p><p>The lights blink, and there's a shrill twilling noise that Byron takes to mean that the check is being done. It takes just a few minutes, in which he scans the manual for any relevant information. <b> <em>I'm sorry, doctor, but my last storage index says that the date was two hundred sixty four years and ninety eight days ago. No other errors exist for the memory core. Can you confirm the current date?</em> </b></p><p>"No, that's- that's correct. I think so, at least, that it's been that long. And I'm still not a doctor..." Byron mutters the last part. And then rattles off the date, staring at the buttons as the lights continue to blink.</p><p>It takes a few more moments of silence before the voice responds. <b> <em>If you are here, logically, it means that my pilot is dead. Have you any idea what happened?</em> </b></p><p>He had read a few journals he could find, others from long ago documenting their days of flying through the skies and protecting innocents in their metal suits, working with the mechas to provide aid, relief, help, to those who need such. They all ended so abruptly, with no sign of any struggle or any clues at all as to why everything was sealed away for decades. "No." he admits, brushing his hand over the side of the chair that sits at the center of the small room. "I don't. I had, ah, found you. In various states of disuse. Did my best to fix you up, but apparently you're working again. I'm sorry, but Felix... is most likely dead. There's no way a human being could live for that long."</p><p>
  <b> <em>Do not feel sorry, doctor. I'm an artificial intelligence, I cannot process emotions the same as you.</em> </b>
</p><p>"You sure do sound like you can. And uh, call me Byron."</p><p><b> <em>Baron?</em> </b> The slight accent coded in makes his name sound like the title, and he thinks back to days past. When he was younger, and would joke about what he and his friends would do once the war was over. They said they'd all found their own country together, and they'd all be the rulers and nobility, and they wouldn't let any fighting happen within their borders. And he said that he'd be a baron, he'd be Baron Byron, and if anyone laughed at his name he'd sentence them to death, because that's what nobility could do.</p><p>"Close enough. Is there anything I can call you?"</p><p>
  <b> <em>Felix called me LIV.</em> </b>
</p><p>"Alright, LIV." Byron thinks of the days he spent calling Elizabeth that, even though the memories from longer ago have begun falling away through the cracks in his mind like flower petals drifting in the breeze. "Now, can you help me pilot you?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>That's shields, Doctor. You want the lever next to it to divert power to thrusters.</em> </b>
</p><p>"Thanks, LIV. Right, power going to the thrusters- I hit the fire button on accident."</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Would you mind fixing up the panel on my right side next to the sensors? It's dented.</em> </b>
</p><p>"Huh? Oh, right, I've been meaning to get the ladder out for a while. Gotta make sure you stay clean."</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Baron, you have not moved from your task for over sixteen hours and have been here for an additional seven before that. Such is not healthy for the human body. My pilot chair can extend into a bed- get some sleep. I will see what work I can do on my systems in the meantime.</em> </b>
</p><p>"Okay, okay. In a minute."</p><p>
  <b> <em>You will sleep now, Baron, or you won't be able to get inside tomorrow.</em> </b>
</p><p>"You wouldn't dare! ...Alright, fine, I'll take a nap. Four hours at the most!"</p><p>
  <b> <em>I'll wake you up in six.</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>LIV looks like the dragonflies that follow the armies around in the summer, strange insects that feast on the blood of dying men. Byron spends every moment he can with it, making sure every piece is in working order now that it's able to guide him along. The outside is polished, any dings and dents are fixed up, he goes deeper inside the cavernous rooms (as deep as he dares to, at least, LIV uncovers the entrance to the subterranean levels but can't get the lights on, which makes it terrifying) and finds paint that he uses to cover up any scratches.</p><p><b> <em>You're stalling.</em> </b> it says one day, everything running smoothly as Byron sits atop its head, gazing out over the other rusty mechas that fill the area. It had been listening to him singing a song he had written, but apparently felt the need to speak up.</p><p>"Stalling? No, I'm not." is the immediate reply. Byron's oddly defensive of himself, but the lie rolls off his tongue awkwardly.</p><p><b> <em>Everything has been in fully working order for weeks now. There's something you intend to do, you just simply don't know how to do it. Why don't you ask me for help?</em> </b> LIV chastises softly, a large arm rising up so that Byron can step onto its palm so he can be lowered down to the ground, where he takes a seat on one of the various stools he had dragged in. </p><p>He thinks for a moment, of everything he could tell it. And finally, the truth comes pouring out. "Because you... when we first met, you called me a doctor. Someone who helps others. But so far, you're the only one I've been able to fix. Every time I had tried to help others, I've only gotten them hurt. If I try to end this war, the only foreseeable way through is with even more bloodshed. I- there's already been so much, LIV. I'm not sure how much more I could bear."</p><p>Soft lights flicker on, and Byron has long since grown used to how LIV conveys emotions through every part of it. This must be something akin to sympathy. <b> <em>We all make hard choices, Baron.</em> </b> And he’s sure that by now, LIV just calls him that as a joke. <b> <em>This is another one of them.</em> </b></p><p>He’s told it stories about the war. About how people say, and the mechas are proof, that the world used to be so much more. But humanity destroys itself, creates rules only to break them, builds itself up only to break itself down, and now the world is merely a shell of its former glory. “I know. I just really don’t know what the right thing is. I’ve read so much about ethics, and now I can’t recall a single word when the time comes that I might actually have to use that knowledge. What I do know is that... there’s people responsible for all this. The ones in charge. And this is- this is my world! And they’re out here pulling the strings, sending people to their death, they don’t fucking care about any of us! I want to make them pay.”</p><p>
  <b> <em>Then we shall do that. Come with me, doctor Baron. You may yet help your people.</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Everything is silent again. Not because of any ringing in his head, but because there’s no one left to scream. The only noises come from the fires as they crackle, flames reaching up to the sky like phantom hands. And Byron is left alone, with a friend dying near him once again.</p><p>“LIV-” he gasps, every breath sending shooting pain throughout his body. “Please- don’t go-”</p><p>
  <b> <em>My exoskeleton is damaged. There is no way to transport me back to the cave, and you would not make it very far.</em> </b>
</p><p>He knows that, of course he knows that. Still, he slams his fist down onto the ground, feeling the dull pain as it smacks against dirt trampled down to firmness. “Damn it, I’m not going through this again! I’m not losing another friend! You have to- I don’t know. I’ll find some way to get you more energy. We can power up the thrusters. I’m not losing another friend on the battlefield, not like this!”</p><p><b> <em>I did not say that I would die.</em> </b> From within the cracked lights, there comes a steady glow of comfort. <b> <em>My memory core, my innermost workings- it can be said that those are what you may consider alive. The workers described it as techno-organic and other descriptors, though those never words never made it into the manuals and journals you had read. Everything there, I control, from the programs to the metal I am made of itself. I only had one pilot before you, so I did not get the chance to do so, but these alive parts of a mecha can form a physical bond with the pilot. I never did so with you, as there was no reason to, but I can now. I will become a part of you, Baron. You will not lose me.</em> </b></p><p>And there, so small, so desperate, Byron agrees. He could not keep Elizabeth alive, the shrapnel that had pierced her chest had taken her breath far too quickly for him to try to do anything at all to steal her away from death. But this? It was his second chance. “Yes. Yes, please, LIV, I need you.”</p><p>Just like that, he loses his own breath, as there’s a pain where his shoulder is, where his arm should be, right before the world goes dark.</p><p> </p><p>Later, when asked, he’ll say that it wasn’t Byron who woke up on that battlefield, with a newly formed arm of metal that glows in the now pale moonlight. He’ll say that it was Marius, his middle name, a newly formed man, as Byron should have bled out there and stayed dead. But when he opened his eyes, he was still Byron, and wonderfully confused.</p><p><em> You’re awake! </em> comes the chipper voice, which most certainly isn’t coming from speakers anymore. Instead, it seems like it’s just thoughts put into his own brain, and he’d think himself crazy, if not for the fact that it’s no doubt LIV’s voice. Then he pauses, and then flexes his fist. Which he most certainly shouldn’t have, considering it’s his right one, which he lost years ago. The metal joints move, and the paneling seems almost flexible as he moves his hand every which way. <em> I wasn’t sure if you would wake up. </em></p><p>“LIV?” he asks, because at this point, he isn’t sure what’s going on.</p><p>
  <em> It’s me. This is the bond I had told you about. In your case, I bonded by replacing your missing limb. Your heart had given out when I first connected to your nervous system, not helped by the other injuries you had sustained. No worries, it’s started back up again, and you should be fully healed. Such is the benefit of having a bond- I am able to help your body process all injuries! As long as we aren’t forcibly parted, you should be able to heal from most anything. </em>
</p><p>He shakes his head. “Yeah. Great. Wonderful news. I’m not going to die. I- what else can I do here?” The reality of the situation strikes him all at once, delightfully. Everyone around him has been slaughtered, massacred, because he thought he could be great. Innocents from all sides of the conflict are dead because of him, and he starts giving an almost maniacal laugh as shock sets in. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? He wanted the war to be over! And now it is, in the most gore stained way possible, because the universe has it out for Byron von Raum.</p><p>
  <em> Years ago, there was a ship from far off star systems that set down on the planet. Its passengers were, to put it lightly, a strange and violent bunch. I never met them directly, but I do have a method to contact their star ship, who had spoken with the other mechas while it was grounded. I had done so when the battle first started. There was no other result other than complete annihilation on all sides once I ran all simulations, all predictive models. They touched down shortly before your heart restarted. </em>
</p><p>Byron bursts into even more laughter, and now, he can just make out footsteps, boots falling into puddles of blood. “Tim, d’ya hear that?” someone says, and his laughter manages to fade into tears just as rain begins falling.</p><p>“Of course. There’s always something, isn’t there? I do my best, and everyone dies. I find something I care about, it’s nearly taken from me. I think maybe I could die alone and that’d be what’s best for everyone, but now I won’t die. LIV, the universe is out to get me. The stars look down on me and laugh. Just who exactly did you call?”</p><p><em> They... </em> For all the time he’s spent with it, he’s still amazed at how much a robotic voice can emote and sound human. <em> Are the Mechanisms. They can’t die, and that’s all the available information about them. But they may have been involved earlier on in the war, responsible for much of the damage that had been done. </em></p><p>His new metal fist punches the metal laying near him, causing it to dent, although there’s no damage done to his new limb in return. “And you what, flagged them down? Paged them over?” His shrieky whispers almost crack, breaking into shriller yet still somewhat quiet yells. “Told them to come on over to a world they <em> might </em> have helped destroy?”</p><p>
  <em> Your world is gone, Baron. And I cannot feel, I do not have feelings in the way that you do, but I am truly sorry. You do not deserve this loss. They are your way out. At the very least, their star ship can take you to a planet where you may live out a better life. </em>
</p><p>And this is when Byron is reborn as Marius, as the footsteps get closer and he can make out a person’s head as they shout out that they found someone alive, forcing down his very grief and desperation and the urge to sob until their eyes are indistinguishable from the downpouring sky, as he slips on mud and blood when he tries to stand up. As they draw near and he can see the black makeup on their face smearing from the rain, aiming a bullet between his eyes when they see the metal of his arm. When another forces their arm down and approaches, asking for his name. When he stands there, in the midst of all the carnage, and lets himself die for the first, second, third time, he’s died so many times over in the past whether his heart truly stopped or not that he’s lost count between all the desperation and desolation.</p><p>They ask him for his name, and he introduces himself with what a friend called him. Doctor Baron Marius von Raum. This time, the lie roles easily off of his tongue, because this is what’s true now, it’s not a lie. It’s not, it can’t be, he has to believe it. He has to leave Byron behind, or he’ll never truly leave this world behind. They ask how he’s still alive, everyone else is dead, he says that he doesn’t know. The empty husk which he still loves lays on the cold hard ground, the water pooling will strip away his hard work over time. But LIV, evidently, isn’t there anymore. It’s his arm, which is odd to think about, but he offers even less of an explanation than he knows to the Mechanisms.</p><p>Once offered, he goes with them, following them to their ship, where he’s bombarded by further questions. He finds that he doesn’t mind the honey sweet words that drip automatically from his lips in lieu of answers. It seems that every word out of his mouth is a lie, that’s the truth, but Marius von Raum isn’t a liar. He simply says what others wish to hear, is that a sin? Is that anything he must repent for?</p><p>Finally, he wants to say, finally here is a group I can belong in. Here, it doesn’t matter how much I fuck up, as long as they believe that it was a foolish mistake. Nothing I can do can kill them. If they think I am useless, then let them, I can pretend to not hear their words. Here are friends, except he can’t call them that, but at the very least they are people he cannot hurt more than they already have been. And that’s all he had ever been good for, but if he is useless now, then he’ll simply make himself irreplaceable. </p><p> </p><p>“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever been to medical school.” LIV chirps in Marius’s ear, its signal of annoyance when he needs to be listening to others, not the AI. Turning away from the contents of the fridge, Marius glances over at Jonny, who had been poking his head out from behind the open door.</p><p>“Well, I would have applied, but we didn’t exactly have much schooling there.” Most schools and universities had been blasted to the point of no return anyways, and if you didn’t run out into the wilderness by eighteen, you’d have been recruited into the armies of either side. Besides, from what he understood, higher education had in no way come with the Doctor title. At least, according to LIV. “And don’t be so fucking rude about it. Doctor was just a word for someone who helped people. It’s more like a nickname than anything else.” </p><p>“Right, I forgot your planet was a backwards ass place filled with weird shit that makes no fucking sense. No titles my ass, then why the fuck are you a Baron?”</p><p>Marius grabs his gun, has LIV control his hand so he’s pointing it directly at Jonny without needing to look. “Probably for the same reason you’re an asshole. What even brought this up, and why are you in the kitchen? I thought Brian was still enforcing his ban on you entering it.”</p><p>Jonny shrugs, spinning his pistol around one finger. “First of all, he doesn’t get to tell the Captain what to do. Second of all, because I was talking with Raph about it. I mean, she’s got more science knowledge than you, she’d make a far more competent doctor.”</p><p>At that, Marius scoffed, and then because Jonny wouldn’t do anything about it, took a sip of milk directly from the gallon. “Yeah, and you’d end up dying at least five times on the operating table before she’d let you up. I don’t do much, but at least I’m not a mad scientist. And you know, I happen to think that even if people don’t respect it, at least it’s a title that I have, and to me, it’s one that means I’m helping people. I’m satisfied. Can you say the same about being the captain, even when no one respects that?”</p><p>He’s a bit tired, his words make no sense, but Jonny understands what he’s trying to say enough to put a bullet in his brain before Marius can get around to making himself a sandwich. Rude.</p><p>When he comes to, no one else is around, but judging by how there’s the smell of smoke in the air, someone came by and fucked things up. He sighs, hoping that if there’s a fire, it won’t be his problem, and wiping the remaining blood off his clothes the best he can, heads back to his room. No use getting a sandwich now.</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>It’s unpleasant when you get shot in the head. Makes my job quite hard.</em> </b> LIV speaks as Marius sits on his bed, tuning up his violin. <b> <em>Even though I know you will always wake up unless our bond is severed. Which is quite hard to do now, connected as we are.</em> </b></p><p>“LIV, you’ve repaired my entire body when I was dying from fire, and you’re my best friend on this whole ship. I think that means we’re pretty fucking connected to each other fully. Do you think Jonny of all people would render me dead for good? Nah, nah, I intend to go out in style if I ever can die.” The lights blink, and his arm droops down. “Oh, alright, I get it, you don’t want me talking about my deaths. No need to be so sad about it!”</p><p>LIV perks back up, giving him full control over his arm once again. <b> <em>There was only a thirty eight percent chance you would wake back up after we first bonded. I still feel as much worry as I can as a purely artificial intelligence for you.</em> </b></p><p>“I know you do, and I worry about you as well. Don’t worry, though, I’m staying as safe as I can. The others are murderous, but, well, that’s to be expected. And so am I!”</p><p><b> <em>I’m well aware of that, Baron. You’ve changed much since you first found me. If I may ask, in case my records should be updated, do you plan on telling the other Mechanisms about where you came from?</em> </b> Now there’s a tricky question. He hasn’t told anyone much about him, and most of what they know is a lie. They don’t even know that Marius isn’t really his first name, although since he’s of the belief that Byron von Raum had, of course, died on that battlefield, it might as well be.</p><p>Marius sighs, looking at his arm, so he feels a little less awkward just talking to empty space. “I don’t know, LIV. I’m not sure what to do.”</p><p>“Marius?” There comes a knock at his door, and he jumps as Ivy speaks. “Are you talking to someone in there?”</p><p>Leaping to his feet, Marius quickly takes a moment to make sure that his violin and bow are okay as he sets them down on his bed, crossing over the floor to the door. Opening it in time for Ivy’s fist to almost hit his chest, he smiles brightly at her. “Ivy! Did you need something?”</p><p>“I came to ask if you wanted to go planetside in a few days, Brian is debating whether or not to stop at the planet we’ll be passing by. Still, there was a ninety three percent that you were addressing someone not by your name. Do you mind if I inquire as to what I overheard?”</p><p>As a matter of fact, he does mind, and tells the archivist just as much. “Sort of, actually. It was just me talking to myself. Wondering what someone who used to be important to me would think of me now.” Okay, too somber. He’s got to go back to the charismatic exterior he usually puts up. “But it doesn’t matter! She’s been dead for like, decades now. Tell me more about this planet?”</p><p> </p><p>Going to the planet was a great idea. Well, terrible, because he couldn’t talk to LIV without Raphaella and Ivy knowing what he was doing since they were all trapped in the same prison cell. Sure, he could just send signals with his brain in some weird form of technopathy, but it wasn’t the same. But it was great, because now he’s got Lyf. But also terrible again because Lyf’s star system no longer exists. But... he’s got his Inspector. And that’s all he really needs.</p><p>“We all try to be able to repair each other’s systems, generally speaking.” Brian guided Lyf’s hand over to the panel in his arm, letting the former Inspector carefully pry it open. “Well, most of us, that is. Marius can do repairs, but his mechanisms hasn’t had any issues so far.”</p><p>“And this Carmilla person... well, it sounds like she left a lot of issues to be fixed.” Lyf had wanted to learn more about the crew’s mechanisms, and Brian had been having some issues with one of his wrist joints, so he decided he could take the opportunity to teach their newest member. Such had led to a discussion of how often they need repairs, and a slight detour to talking about Carmilla. May she be rotting in the cold void alone forever, Marius thinks bitterly.</p><p>Brian nods. “She got better at it over the years, Jonny has a lot more problems than, say, Ashes. Some of it was a lack of experience, some of it is she just didn’t care. And was slightly mad. I mean, I’ve got a switch that controls my morality for no good reason at all.”</p><p>The screwdriver clatters to the ground, distracting Marius from where he sat locked in an intense techno-pathic discussion with LIV. “What?” Lyf asks, eyes wide. “She just- why would she do such a thing? That’s so fucked up!”</p><p>“You grow used to it after a few centuries. And I’ve come up with plenty of loopholes for either setting.”</p><p>“That’s true! He can still shoot me no matter what mode he’s on! It’s fascinating, really, but- uh- you won’t want me getting into that.”</p><p>“Elske, I’ve seen you psychoanalyze a chair before. And that lasted for at least half an hour. I’m not sure if you took a single breath the whole time. Let me just take your word for that.” Right. Lyf had walked in on that. It had been a heated discussion with LIV, but then Lyf walked through the door, so he had to improvise. It couldn’t hurt his already low reputation on the ship.</p><p>Shrugging with only one shoulder, Brian tries not to move as Lyf picks up the screwdriver and goes back to focusing on opening the various pieces of him. “Don’t worry about it, Marius. Just be thankful she didn’t do your arm. Then we’d be having to pry open you instead.”</p><p>“I’m glad, believe me.” he states, LIV spitting out facts into his brain about the health benefits of animals. It had previously been trying to convince Marius that he should sneak a dog onboard, which he thought was a very stupid idea.</p><p>“Well, kind of hard to do, since you seem to lie a lot of the time you’re around us.” There’s only a small smile from Brian as Marius recoils, and Lyf suddenly seems to be treating the metal with a lot more prejudice. “Speaking of which, will you ever tell us the truth of how you got your mechanism? You’re keeping an awful lot of secrets, Marius. Don’t you know that’s bad for your health? But- oh, right, like you keep saying, you’re not a doctor in that sense of the word.</p><p><em> I can shoot him for you, if you would like, Baron. </em> Having the words come in through his head rather than a speaker is still somehow odd. <em> Not now, </em> he replies, directing the thoughts as though he was directing his arm. Learning how to do so took no small amount of time. <em> It’s not his fault. Just his stupid switch. He’ll probably apologize by tomorrow. </em></p><p>“Truth telling isn’t something I’m particularly inclined to do, unfortunately. Tough topics like that, you know how they get. Give it another few centuries, or get me drunk enough, I’m sure the truth will slip out eventually.”</p><p>“Eventually, sure. Someday we’ll learn.”</p><p> </p><p>That day comes sooner than the others may have expected, and far sooner than Marius would have liked. They’re stranded on a planet, Aurora isn’t working, and there’s some fucking idiot who decided it would be a good idea to catch them all unaware and knock them all out. Now all he’s doing is becoming increasingly frustrated that the star ship won’t take off, presumably not realizing that once any of them gets free, they’ll either be tossed out into space to die, tossed in the engine to burn and die, or just shot through the head. Or the dick.</p><p>However, as it is so far, it had been the better part of what counts as a day on the Aurora, and no one’s been able to get out so far. Frustrating, but they’ve got eternity to go. Eventually they’ll just give up, or one of them will undo their bonds. At least, so they figured. And so they had talked about, because what was the intruder going to do? Kill them for talking? Oh no, that’d be a shame.</p><p>Then, as all things do, it all leads to more things going on, which lead on in turn. So yes, the situation then escalates. In the span of just a few minutes, the still working clocks chiming out that it had been nineteen hours since the mechs were captured, there’s someone else onboard now who claims to be looking for all of them, for various crimes (a lot of their more heinous ones are mentioned, and not much else. The petty theft tends to be overlooked once you’ve done as much murder as the mechs have). Were they alerted by the first person? None of them knew, since this man had done nothing but monologue at them despite their repeated yells to just kill them and stop fucking talking.</p><p>“Would you just shut up already? All I’m interested in is whether or not I can get a jail cell next to Lyf or not.” Lyf, who is currently planet side, because the mechs thought that they’d be less noticeable than any of them. Lyf, who should be coming back in a week, unless in case of an emergency, because they said it’d look suspicious if they went somewhere else every night. </p><p>“Ah yes, your newest addition. They certainly took me by surprise. No, you will not- Doctor, was it? Von Raum?” They have thick, bushy eyebrows that make them look even more like a fictional villain. Marius wants to rip them off their face and shoot them.</p><p>
  <em> Doctor is my name for you. To have some intruder say it is disrespectful. Would you like me to shoot him? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> LIV, I don’t have my gun with me, none of us do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Baron, I haven’t used any of these procedures in centuries. I apologize. As you did not use them, I did not inform you that they existed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What are you trying to say, LIV? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Only that as a techno-organic material not constrained much by physics, I can reform into something that resembles the plasma cannon that Gunpowder Tim used seven weeks and five days ago to blow up a small movie theater. Given the minimal severity of the situation, I can also opt for a smaller form, should you not wish to blow a hole in the side of the Aurora. </em>
</p><p>“What.” He says it more as a statement than the question it really is, but Marius also says it outloud and very loud.</p><p>“Oh, sorry, did you not hear that part?”</p><p>Fuck. He had zoned out, but doing that on command is hard, and he really doesn’t want to listen to monologuing anymore. “Nope! Yeah, I totally heard it perfectly well. Let’s do that then.” Marius really hopes that LIV understands that he’s talking to it.</p><p>“You... want me to bury you in the sea locked in a metal coffin?” So he hadn’t heard anything. That’s no reason for everyone else to be given him such weird looks right now. Like none of them would ever antagonize someone like that.</p><p>“Nope! No, I wouldn’t, sorry. I wasn’t talking to you, actually. LIV, how fucking fast does that take?”</p><p><b> <em>Not very long.</em> </b> It spoke out loud. Interesting. They’re already going to have enough questions as it is. Something breaks through the chains holding him in place, which is awfully convenient, and then it’s just one of the weirdest experiences he’s ever felt as the metal on his arm moves around for a second or so. But suddenly, it’s got a whole lot more firepower than before. Marius figures he should just go with gut instinct when it comes to actually firing his new arm cannon, as he certainly hasn’t read any sort of manual for when it comes to this. Just like when anyone asks him about anything medical, he just goes with his gut and hopes for the best.</p><p>As it turns out, somehow, it all works, and the man is left staring blankly at the large hole in his chest before falling to the ground like a puppet that got its strings cut. The other turns to flee, but one more shot takes out his knee, and he slumps over. “Holy shit, LIV!” Marius exclaims. “I never asked about this, but why didn’t you tell me this at like, any point sooner? This is fucking fantastic!”</p><p><b> <em>Well, perhaps it was in the crew’s best interest that you remain unaware of what I can do.</em> </b> LIV replies, shifting into something with a sharpened serrated blade where his hand should be. It would have looked like a normal knife if not for the glow and the low thrumming of electrical currents. <b> <em>Now go cut them loose.</em> </b></p><p>“Well, von Raum, looks like you’ve got some explaining to do. Mind telling us what the fuck that was?” Jonny looks like he might just shoot Marius himself once he slices through the chains holding him in place. “And that’s not debatable, it’s an order. None of your lies.”</p><p>He turns around, one well placed strike setting Raphaella free in just a second. “Fine then. Where would you like me to start?”</p><p>“That time when I heard you talking to someone in your room and you told me that it was you thinking about someone from your past. That’s not true, is it?” Why does Ivy even ask? She already knows these things.</p><p>“Not exactly? There was a girl named Elizabeth, she died because of me, and I had called her Liv before. But this-” he gestures towards his arm with his other arm, “is LIV. The... what did you say you are? Techno-organic being who I’ve bonded with that functions like your mechanisms to keep me alive.”</p><p><b> <em>Hello! I cannot feel excitement, but I do wish to add more information to my data logs now that I may talk to you all properly.</em> </b> LIV waves, meaning that it just looks like Marius is waving around the knife hand, but they probably understand what’s really happening. <b> <em>D’Ville, please don’t go for your gun. Your heart rate, though mechanical, is elevated, and I do not wish for my Doctor to suffer as a consequence of your ill thought out actions.</em> </b></p><p>Jonny sighs, but puts the gun away as Marius finishes helping out the others. Then looks back up at him like his brain had been buffering and only just now realizes what to say. “Wait, <em> your </em> doctor?”</p><p>Hand going back to, well, a hand, Marius taps his flesh fingers to metal ones anxiously. “Uh, yeah? Like I’ve said, on our planet, it was a general term, more of a nickname than a title. And I fixed up LIV from scratch- well, its exoskeleton, that is, and just a little bit of the more internal processing pieces, just had to get it to the state where it can turn on so that it can run itself, but LIV insists on calling me that.”</p><p>“Did LIV also give you the title of Baron?” This comes from Nastya, rubbing at the silvery bruises from where the chains bit into her wrists.</p><p>“Yes, but also no. It was a miscommunication error at first. I was- shit, I’ve never even told you all about this part. I used to be Byron von Raum, but he died when my heart first stopped as LIV bonded to me. Marius was his middle name, so when I came back to life, I just took it as my first. But LIV had misheard Byron as Baron, little technological slip up, and then it just became sort of a joke between us.”</p><p>This time, it’s Ashes who breaks into laughter. “So you were Baron Byron? Oh, that’s fucking great.”</p><p>Something tells Marius that he’s never going to hear the end of this, even centuries later. And then LIV tells him that just as well, growing bold now that it’s talking through the speakers to the entire room at large. <b> <em>You’re never going to live this down, are you?</em> </b></p><p>“No,” he mutters, “no I am not.”</p><p>Suddenly, quick as a bolt of lightning, Tim shoots up, long hair a mess. “All the times that we fucked-”</p><p>There’s a chorus of disgust and mock screams that follow before he can finish the end of their sentence. “No, no, no!” Marius yells to be heard above the din. “Oh God, no, that would be weird, LIV powers down overnight. Or when I’m about to be doing anything like that. No, gross, it’s my friend, I’d never- fucking hell, no, that would be awkward.”</p><p>For a couple of minutes, there’s a struggle to hear anything over the din of laughter that fills up the room, but once it quiets down, there’s an unsettling silence that takes its place. “So... Marius... we’re going to have more questions.”</p><p>It’s Nastya again. Thank the stars, everyone else hasn’t been much help with the issue, and Marius does have a rather soft spot for her. “I can try to answer them.” He doesn’t promise that he won’t shy away from them, or lie, but he doesn’t think that he could truthfully promise that.</p><p>“That’s all that we ask for. But if you’d like, I think LIV could help you out a bit. And Aurora too. The two have been communicating for quite some time now.”</p><p>Marius blinks once, twice, three times, eyes going comically large. “You knew?” He practically screeches, staring at Nastya.</p><p>“What? No, I didn’t, stop looking at me like that. Aurora had just dropped some hints about something she had been in communication with, and wasn’t there something on your planet that had contacted us?”</p><p>
  <b> <em>Yes, that was me. I don’t feel remorse, but I will apologize for not informing you about my communications with the starship Aurora. And with the Toy Soldier.</em> </b>
</p><p>“You spoke to TS- wait. Fuck.” Now Marius could pinpoint why the silence was odd. “Where is TS?”</p><p>Predictably enough, that sent the others off into a slight panic, until Aurora pointed out that TS had simply been ordered to stay put, so hadn’t done anything other than stay in their room, where they were carving a small bird out of wood. Despite it all, Marius was smiling all the while. He hadn’t expected this to feel like such a weight off of his chest, but now, he did feel a bit lighter. Everyone would have more questions, and he’d have to explain everything to Lyf once they got back so they aren’t kept in the dark, and there’s still the question of if there’s anything else LIV can do that he didn’t know about. But those are for the future, and he’s got plenty of that to look ahead to.</p>
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